Only You
by PCGirl
Summary: John has to face the music when it comes to telling Natalie the truth about the kiss with Sam McCall. And realizes in the process just how much he's lost. One Shot-Jolie duh


Disclaimer: I don't own the characters-because if I did one of them wouldn't be a cheating manslut right now. So obviously that means they are still property of ABC/Disney.

A/N: Not sure where this came from tonight-but it's here and I do hope ya'll all enjoy it very very much. I know I did. :) Until next time-ya'll know the drill-PCGirl.

* * *

John sat there on the orange couch just staring at the table. He always hated that table, and right now he hated himself more. Had she slipped something in the drink? Something to make him so unaware of his actions that he would kiss someone that was not his Natalie? Not the mother of his child?

He'd asked her to drop Liam off after they got back to Llanview from London and then meet her at the apartment—told her there was something important he needed to tell her. But how in the hell was he supposed to come out and say he kissed another woman a few days ago and expect their relationship to still be intact?

There wasn't any—it was dead in the water. But he was going to work on it—150% until he proved to her that she was the person he was meant to be with. The person he wanted to continue to grow a family with.

As he heard the key in the door he actually thought about not telling her—that maybe he could just forget it happened and she would never find out. But there was both Todd and Starr—both were still back in Port Charles and he knew it would get back to her.

"Hey," smiled Natalie as she walked in pulling the luggage bag behind her. She leaned down to kiss him and John wanted it not to end—scared that it was the last time he'd ever feel her lips on his. They'd broken up before—but each time he knew he would taste her again. This time, he wasn't sure.

"Hey—how was the flight home?"

"It was good—your son does surprisingly well for long flights."

"Good," he said as he watched her begin to unload the suitcase. "I need to talk to you about something," he said as he walked to the doorway and watched her—why was this so hard? Why was he such an idiot and not gone with them to London? If he had this never would have happened.

"Sure," she said as she turned and saw the look on his face. She remembered when she'd seen it before—when he was holding the secret about Cris being alive from her. "What's going on, John?" she asked as she came towards him.

"Hold on," he said as he selfishly pulled her tight to him, feeling her body against his and his mouth pressing on hers. Releasing her he sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands. He had to find the courage somewhere to tell her and he wondered if this is why his dad never told his mom about Theresa—that he was too selfish to give up the woman he was meant to be with because of one stupid stupid night.

"John? What happened?" she asked as she sat down on the table and took his hands.

He looked down at her hands and laughed at seeing the engagement ring on her finger—the same one his dad gave his mom so many years ago, "I'm no better than my old man."

"What?" she said as let go of the grip on his hands some.

"I'm so sorry, Natalie."

"What the hell did you do, John?" she asked, feeling the world tilt just a little bit as she watched him trying to get it out.

"I—Remember Sam McCall?"

"You slept with a mob princess?"

"No," he declared. "But we kissed."

"Do you have feelings for her?"

"I—don't know."

"Wrong answer," she said as she finally felt like she could stand up and went to the opposite side of the room.

He was screwing this up worse than he ever imagined, "No—I meant no."

"Then why would you say otherwise," she asked, her back to him as she wiped away tears. She hadn't expected tonight to go like this—hadn't expected to come home from a trip where she found out she was again pregnant to find out the person she considered her soul mate had feelings for someone else.

"It's just—we kept running into each other, kept feeling like we knew each other from before."

"And so you decided to make out to see if you remembered any of this other supposed life you once shared before?"

"No—it wasn't like that. We were watching the fireworks."

"Oh, I'm sure there were fireworks alright," she snapped and walked over to the suitcase and put the clothes she'd pulled out back in.

"It wasn't like that—it's not, Natalie," he said as he walked over and tried to take her arm so she would look at him—maybe see in his eyes how much he wanted this to work. But when he grabbed her arm he felt it rigid—she was trying so hard to not breakdown that he let go, "I love you, Natalie—and only you."

She did turn this time, and all he saw was hollowness in her eyes—the spark that usually resided in those playful blues was gone, "It doesn't matter, John. It's over," she said very calmly and slipped the ring off her finger with little problems and placed it on the bed. "Go—find out if this woman you have known for months is more important than me—someone you've known for almost nine years."

"It's not—she's not. Nothing is more important that making this right with you."

"You want to make it right? Don't fight for custody. Our children don't need to have someone in their life that's going to be in and out of it as he chases one ghost after another," she said as she put the suitcase back on the ground and walked out without another word.

John sat down on the bed and stared at the closed door, picking up the ring he studied it—wanting to badly to chuck it into the Llantano river right now. And then he realized what she'd said—children, plural. "Shit," he said, out loud to the emptiness that was now his life.

* * *

John woke with a jilt and looking around at the flowing white curtains for a moment he forgot where he was. The dream—it felt real, and his heart actually hurt thinking he would have lost everything. Closing his eyes he could hear the sound of the surf hitting the rocks below and then the soft sound of feet coming back in.

Opening his eyes he saw her walk in, wearing the silky black negligee that she'd gone to bed wearing last night. Actually—if he remembered correctly it didn't stay on long, and the memories caused a sly grin to appear on his face.

"What are you thinking about, McBain?" she smiled as she sat down on the edge of the bed and stretched out to meet his mouth with hers.

"Last night," he said as his fingers traced her thigh right where the hem of the slip met her skin, and watched as goose bumps came to the surface. Looking into her eyes he saw the playfulness back in them and knew everything was just a dream—an odd dream, but a dream none the less. "So what are we going to do today, Mrs McBain?"

"Maybe a replay of last night?" she laughed as she pulled herself the rest of the way onto the bed and on top of him.

"Sounds like a plan," he said as his mouth crushed hers. Pulling back for a second he pushed the red locks out of the way and held her face in his hands, "I love you, Natalie. Only you."

"I know—it's always been just you," she said as she retook his mouth and the melted into the sheets as one.


End file.
